"Oh, don't go up to the house," faltered Tavia, who really showed signs of fear.
"Not pay our respects to the light of ages—or whatever you might call it? And we on the very spot! For shame, girl!" continued Nat. "Methinks thou art a coward."
"Think away, then," snapped Tavia, "but if you go up to that old ramshackle house I'll just——"
"Scream! Oh, do; it will add greatly to the effect," and Nat, in his boyish way, continued to joke and tease, until Tavia was obliged to laugh at her own fears.
Presently Dorothy espied a tree—a pretty young spruce—that seemed to meet all the requirements of a Christmas tree.
"Over there," she directed Nat, who with hatchet in hand was making for the desired tree.
The particular tree was situated near a side path, quite close to the old mansion. Dorothy left her seat and followed Nat, but Tavia remained behind in the car with Ned.
Suddenly they were all startled by a noise—a shrill scream—or perhaps it was some wild bird.
"Oh!" cried Tavia, "let's get out of this creepy place. Dorothy! Dorothy!" she called, "do come along and never mind the tree. I feel I shall die, I am so—frightened!"
"You!" said Ned with a light laugh. "Why, I thought you just loved ghosts."